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Hello all. I'm posting my first story here. I'll be doing it in parts, once or twice a week, so as not to overwhelm you all with a massive wall of text. The story is about thirty pages long in a word document and it's the first story I've ever completed. Please be gentle. Smitten The first thing that I noticed was that he was impossibly beautiful. He sat in front of me on the bus, playing who knows what on his telephone while he waited on his stop. I think he must have been really invested in the game, because every so often his face would bunch up in concentration or his thumb would speed to the opposite corner of his device. He was so engrossed that I was able to take him in, really see him. He was a little shorter than me, about five-foot-nine or ten. His hair was dirty blond, streaked with lighter, golden patches. But I knew that this was natural, a product of the time he spent in the sun. His skin was a rich tan, like coffee with a little too much milk. He had a light dusting of facial hair, slightly darker than what was on the rest of his head. But what got me were his eyes. There really isn’t a metaphor for just how blue they were. I would say they were like the sky on a clear day after a week of thunderstorms, or even the color of the sea where the water and sky seemed to blend. They were really blue. I was smitten, without even really seeing his body. Bad things happen when I get smitten. I let my eyes wander down slowly from his face. He wasn’t all that big, but I liked what I saw. His neck was thick enough that I could almost draw a line from his ears to his traps, which stood out enough to be perceptible. He had broad shoulders, at least half again as broad as mine. As he played on his phone, his chest would jerk, moving his t-shirt up and down slightly. I could tell without really seeing that his waist was pretty trim as well from the way that his shirt hung off his body. His biceps would stand out, too. His arms were about sixteen inches around and twitched with each swipe of his thumb. When he reached for his collar and gave it a tug though, I knew I was really in trouble. He was filling out his clothes a little more than he had been when I first saw him. His gray shirt was now stretched a fair bit tighter around his pecs and shoulders, causing the fabric to start to bunch up at the seams. I gasped. Unfortunately, it must have been audible because he looked up at me. I looked away, more slowly than I would like to admit, and I pulled the cord on the bus to signal my stop. This always happened when I thought someone was good looking. Those men tended to become so much more…enhanced after an encounter with me. It wasn’t something I really meant to do. It just sort of happened the first time. * * * I was fresh out of high school when I discovered my ability. I never really thought things like this were possible, but there I was: a sophomore in college because I had done so much dual enrollment in high school and I was out to graduate as early as possible here so that I wouldn’t have to interact with childish people any longer than I had to. I wasn’t a genius by any means, just a very hard worker with no real desire for a social life. Then I met Chris. He was about three inches taller than me and built rock solid. He liked to wear basketball shorts and T-shirts, even in the winter time. He was thicker than most other students his age, and a whole helluva lot stronger too. We sat next to each other in Philosophy 101 and Principles of Leadership 210. I still remember the color of his skin. It was like molten caramel, as if he had spent hours in the sun making sure he was the right shade of golden brown. He was really easy to talk to. I was never very sporty, but he was incredibly athletic. After a few classes, he invited me to come watch him play on the intramural football team. We weren’t really a big enough school to have an official team. I went, and I had a good time, even if I didn’t understand all the nuances of the game. Is football really nuanced? I don’t know. “I’m probably the most boring fan that ever came to one of your games, Chris.” I told him this after a particularly brutal game. His team, the Pygmy Dolphins, had faced off against the frat boy squad. They won, if only by one touchdown. “You were great, Alex! I promise, you were the best fan on the field.”, Chris said, laughing. “Now you’re just patronizing me. I didn’t even shout like everybody else.” “You didn’t need to shout. I could tell you were following the game pretty intently.” “Well… even though I don’t really know much about the game, I did think you were pretty cool. I’m always amazed that people can move like you do.” I smiled despite myself, enjoying our conversation. Like I said, the man was easy to talk to. “You must be tired after your game. Can I give you a ride home?” I was really pushing it. I wasn’t quite sure why I offered to give him a ride. It just seemed right at the time. “Yeah, man, that sounds great. I rode the bus to campus today and the last one just left five minutes ago.” He chuckled. “I guess that’s the price you pay for having fun.” “I would really hate for you to have to walk all the way home or catch a cab.” “Dude, Alex, that’s so awesome. Thanks, man, just let me shower in the gym and we’ll be on our way.” I knew that he wouldn’t take too long in the shower, but I had something to do anyway while I waited. I pulled out a copy of my current project and started to take notes. Really, I was truly the most boring person on campus. I was so thoroughly engrossed that I didn’t hear Chris come up behind me until he said “Whatcha workin’ on there, Alex?” I must have jumped a mile. “Chris! Don’t do that, dammit! You scared the living daylights out of me!” He was sitting there laughing at me. His change of clothes was very striking. He was now wearing a tight, black tank top that hugged every curve of his body. His pecs stuck out and stretched the ribbed fabric. Even his abs were visible through the thin fabric. He wasn’t wearing his normal basketball shorts, but some rather short running shorts that left very little to the imagination. “Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you cuss before!” he said, guffawing. His pecs heaved and shuddered with every laugh. “It’s kinda funny.” “It is not!” “Chill, brah. It’ll be fine.” His black hair was plastered to his scalp, still wet from the shower. “Everybody fuckin’ cusses.” We both started laughing then. He reached out and grabbed my shoulder as he doubled over slightly from amusement. I felt a shiver run through me then and I withdrew a bit. “Hey, man, it’s getting late. We better get going if you want to wake up on time for class tomorrow.” “It’s only 8:30.” “But you have a 7:45 class with Dr. Furlong tomorrow, right?” “How do you know that?” Crap. I really stepped in it. What straight man would remember his hot friend’s full schedule? He looked me in the eye, as if seeing me for the first time. Save the conversation, Alex, save it! “As often as I’ve heard you complain about the professor not allowing coffee, how could I forget?” This seemed to mollify him as we arrived at my car. Thank god for a good memory! My loose lips could always seem to be overwritten by some memory from a previous conversation. I unlocked the doors and popped the trunk, so Chris could put his gym bag in. As he slid into the passenger seat, I cranked the car up. “Ready to head home?” “Yeah. Let’s go.” I drove as slowly as I dared to Chris’s downtown apartment. He lived over a bar in the downtown area with two other guys: Mark and Francisco. That was the only way they could afford an apartment in such a prime spot. Mark was a little older and currently in middle Georgia on an archeology internship, helping excavate and catalog Native American burial mounds for the national park service. Francisco, better known as Paco, was almost always at the university. As a film studies and cinematography major, he often spent the night on the cutting floor in one of the cots set up by the department. There was a dedicated group of majors. I pulled into the parking lot behind Chris’s building, unlocked the doors, and popped the trunk again. “You comin’ up?” * * * I can’t believe I lost control like that again. The man on the bus…he was just so hot to start with. I can’t move again, change my name again, dye my hair again. I had moved to this city, twelve hours away from ground zero of my first incident, to get away from my first victim. Alex was legally dead, and I was Marlon now. I walked to my apartment and sighed, pulling the keys out of my pocket. I can’t believe that I still missed Chris and my old life. That was more than seven years ago, but I swear I could still hear his voice sometimes, feel his touch on my shoulder. The house key slid into the lock easily, and I opened the door. My apartment was quite modest, just a simple one bedroom. I had saved up over time and bought a washer/dryer combo, and a nice refrigerator and oven. Thinking about that makes me smile a little bit. Unlike many people my age, I actually like washing clothes and cooking for myself. The dryer puts me to sleep, and baking helps me relax. I needed both of those today after the bus incident. I pulled out the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies and started a load of washing. The machine had just filled up with water and started to move when I heard a knock at the door. “Who on Earth could that be?” I asked myself as I went to the door. I guess it could have been the landlord. In retrospect, I should not have opened the door. I did though. “Hey…” Oh my god, it was the hot guy from the bus. How did he find me? “I know this is really weird, but I saw you on the bus. I got off as soon as I could and…kinda…followed you here. I think I should say thank you.” Now that was unexpected. “I mean, you’re the reason I look like this, right?” Shit. He knows. He knows. * * * When Chris asked me to come up to his apartment, I was ecstatic. I could not let that show though. He was straight, I was a closeted gay guy. “Paco might be up there, and he’s been looking for an excuse to have someone else to talk to for a little bit besides me. I mean, sometimes I can be a little…” Chris hit a left bicep shot here. “…overwhelming for the guy.” “Really? You seem so level-headed and easygoing to me though.” I was almost salivating then, but I tried to hide it. His bicep just looked so juicy. Was it just me, or did they look a little tighter than usual? Normally, his arms were about seventeen inches, but right now they looked like they were pushing nineteen. Everything seemed bigger and more defined. “Yeah, but he’s got the hots for me, and I think if he doesn’t get a break from me every so often, his dick might pop right off his crotch. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it.” Chris smiled. “Something I think the two of you might have in common.” Fuck, abort mission, strategic retreat. Of course, my body betrayed me. I turned an almost neon red. “S’okay man.” He reached down and grabbed me by the chin. “I’m bi. So’s Mark. I looked for those two because my sex drive is a nice car: if you don’t rev the motor every so often in different conditions, it’ll rust through and fall apart. I like having some spare gas at the house, just in case the tank runs low.” Fuck him and his crappy metaphors. Fuck everything about him right now. I pulled my chin out from between his thumb and forefinger. “How…” I said, sitting down on the steps up to his apartment. I put my face in my hands. Fuck my life. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. They were surprisingly cold on my warm face. “How did you know? I haven’t even told…” I felt him sit down beside me. “Why the fuck couldn’t I control my fucking self?” I sniffed. I couldn’t let him see me like this. There was no way that I was going to let Chris see me cry. “Alex…” His muscular arms wrapped around my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I am seriously sorry. I thought that you were out already.” Again, he gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned my head to face him. “You just seemed to be so comfortable being the adorkable guy you are, and I thought that, ya know, you were flirting with me coming to my games and driving me home all the time.” He smiled. “I sure as hell was flirting with you when I invited you to that first game.” That was a revelation. He opened his hand and slid it to my right cheek, then a little further back until his fingers curved around my neck at the base of my skull. I couldn’t look him in the eye still, even though he had me facing directly at him. My eyes raked down his torso to his legs. That was a mistake. My cock twitched when I saw the way his little running shorts wrapped his crotch. Was he hard, like I was? No, that wasn’t possible. “Come here, you skinny fucker.” He pulled me in and started kissing me, dragging my hand to his dick. I felt it swell. It swelled, not hardened. This was my first experience with my ability.